


Of Love and Lobsters

by thebeautifulbadass (2SAM2FURIOUS)



Series: In A Heartbeat [2]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5022418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2SAM2FURIOUS/pseuds/thebeautifulbadass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Of Fear and Falling. Liz and Samar are in a relationship, but after Liz kills Connolly everything is turned upside down. Lizvabi multi-chapter, flangst with a couple doses of smut thrown in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Meanwhile, I'll just be over here patiently waiting for Jon Bokenkamp to hire me (which he won't because clearly I would try to make his female characters gay for each other).
> 
> The lobster thing is a reference to Friends, for those of you who haven't seen the show.

“Samar.” Liz’s voice cracked.

Samar inhaled sharply. “Liz,” she whispered, anxiously glancing around her apartment from her perch on the end of the bed even though she knew she was alone. It had been three days since the woman she loved killed Tom Connolly and disappeared. “You shouldn’t be calling me.”

“I know,” Liz replied, her voice shaking. “But I needed to hear your voice. I needed to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Samar squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on her breathing. More apologies. Endless apologies. After the Kenyons, after Tracy Solobotkin, after the King auction. After nearly getting arrested on felony charges. After making herself a target of the Cabal in order to save Reddington’s life. But this time, Liz was gone. This time Samar was alone. This time the apology couldn’t fix things. It hurt in places Samar didn’t know she had inside her. After a moment, she spoke. “Are you okay? Are you safe?”

“I’m safe, for now. But no, I’m not okay, Samar. Of _course_ I’m not okay. I never wanted to put you or anyone else in this position. But he threatened you. He _threatened_ you… I was so scared I couldn’t think. He said he planned to have you extradited to Iran for killing that scientist, and they could have easily had you executed, Samar. I didn’t know what to do, I just had to stop him, I couldn’t let him hurt you. But now, I just… What if I can’t fix this?” Samar could hear Liz’s voice breaking, Liz crying as she stumbled over her words. “What if I never see you again? What am I supposed to do without you? All you wanted was for me not to leave you and I couldn’t even do that. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry...” Liz trailed off, allowing her sobs to gain the upper hand over her thoughts.

Samar swallowed, trying to control the emotion rising in her throat as she listened to Liz’s muffled cries. “I will always be on your side, Liz. I promise. And I understand. You did what you had to do,” she responded, her voice tight, hoarse.

“Okay,” Liz breathed out shakily. “I have to go. Just know that no matter what happens, I love you. So, so much.”

Tears streamed silently down Samar’s cheeks. “I love you too. Always. Please be careful,” she managed to get out, her voice somehow steady.

“You be careful too,” Liz replied.

And then she was gone, the call disconnected.

Samar hung up and stared at the phone in her hand. She felt like her chest was on fire. She had tried to control her grief and despair over the past three days, but now it was a raging inferno pushing itself to the surface and she could do nothing to stop it. She pushed herself up the bed and curled into a ball on her side, where she allowed herself to break into a billion tiny pieces.

Her body shook so hard with sobs that she could barely get oxygen into her lungs. She gasped for air whenever she could, and each sharp inhale seemed like it was cutting her heart open. Her mind was flooded with thoughts of Liz. She reached for her pillow, pulling it to her chest, curling her body around it, clutching it so tightly her knuckles turned white. She buried her face in the soft fabric, allowing it to muffle her sobs.

Samar cried until her body was so exhausted that she could no longer stay awake. She woke a few hours later, her head pounding, her face covered in dry tears and snot, a memory tickling at the back of her mind.

_And for what it’s worth? I would’ve left with you in a heartbeat._

Samar closed her eyes again, remembering Liz’s words – what Liz had said when she’d told her about Leila all those months ago. _I would’ve left with you in a heartbeat._

Liz would leave her life behind for her.

The memory, the realization, brought clarity. Samar needed to find Liz and go to her – leave her life here, or rather what was left of it, behind without a second glance. She had to make sure Liz knew that she, too, would leave everything behind for her, in a heartbeat. She refused to let the past be repeated. She refused to let fear keep her from being happy. She refused to be Leila.

She sat up, shaking the fog of grief-strained sleep from her brain. Liz would have thrown away the phone she’d called her from immediately, so there was no point in trying to call her back; it had been hours. She would need to triple her efforts to find Liz, and when she did, she would leave Washington without saying a word to anyone.

She knew finding Liz would be difficult. But leaving everything behind so they could be together? That would be easy.

 

********

 

It had been three months since Samar made her resolution and she hadn’t heard from Liz again. She wasn’t expecting to, but she longed to hear her voice, to know that she was still safe. She was trying desperately not to lose hope, but it was proving to be a challenge. She had followed several leads, some on her own, some with the team, but she’d gotten nowhere.

It was Friday, early evening, and Samar had just gotten home from work. She was curled up on her couch, dejected, her mug of tea untouched and growing cold. Everything reminded her of Liz. She couldn’t be at the Post Office without missing her. She couldn’t be in her apartment without remembering the first time they’d made love. She couldn’t sit on this damn couch without thinking of all the times they’d snuggled up together watching _Friends_.

Tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them away, reaching for the remote and flipping through the controls to access her Netflix account. She hadn’t been able to watch _Friends_ since Liz left. She just couldn’t watch it without her. They had left off somewhere in the seventh season; maybe she’d never find out what happened next.

As Netflix loaded on the screen in front of her, she sat bolt upright, her heart leaping into her throat, beating wildly. The account looked different, asking her who was watching. It had never done that before; she didn’t share her account with anyone. Only Liz when they watched together. But now there was a new profile – two boxes sitting next to each other. The one on the left had her own name, but the one on the right simply said “L.”

She covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to use the remote to click on the new, mystery profile. She knew it was Liz. Liz, letting her know that she was safe. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to hold back the tears, but one slipped through.

The profile loaded and Samar felt like she couldn’t breathe. There was only one title under ‘Continue Watching.’

_Friends_.

She hovered over the play button. Liz had left off in the middle of an episode. Season 4, episode 23.

Samar felt her heart beating wildly in her chest as she clicked play. It started just as Joey and Chandler began their sightseeing tour of London. She moved back to the episode list. It was the only episode of the entire series that had been watched on the new user profile.

London. Liz was in London. She sincerely doubted that Liz had just been dying to watch this particular episode of _Friends_ while on the run. Red and Liz must have figured out a way to allow Liz to let her know that she was okay, that she was safe in London, without putting them in danger, without their login being detected.

She stood up on shaking legs, unable to look away from the screen. Her mind was in a haze. None of this seemed real. It was the first time in three months that Samar had known where in the world Liz was. She couldn’t wait around for something more concrete.

Samar deleted the “L” user profile to cover their tracks and exited Netflix, shutting off the television, before running to her bedroom and grabbing a duffel bag. She flew through her closet and rummaged through her drawers, grabbing the essentials, until the bag was mostly full. She glanced down, realizing she was still in the pajamas she’d changed into after work, and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt, slipping into her favorite sneakers.

Samar reached for her purse, grabbing her wallet but leaving everything else behind, including her cell phone. She tossed the wallet into the duffel bag along with her passport, which she pulled out of her desk drawer. She ran to the bathroom, throwing her toothbrush, a travel tube of toothpaste, her comb, and the bare essentials of her makeup into the bag.

She moved back out to the living room, glancing around anxiously, making sure she had everything she needed. She didn’t care about most of her belongings; the important things in this apartment were the memories, and those would travel with her wherever she went.

A specific memory came to her mind then. The morning after they first made love. They had been standing together in the kitchen. She remembered Liz’s lips tasting of coffee. She remembered Liz grabbing a pen off the counter and writing on the notepad Samar kept on the fridge. _You’re my lobster._ A little heart drawn below the words.

Samar hadn’t touched the notepad since, and the note had greeted her every time she opened the fridge. It used to be a happy reminder, but after Liz became the FBI’s fifth most wanted, it made her heart ache every time she saw it.

She walked over to the fridge, running her fingers over the words, tracing the heart. She pulled the sheet from the notepad gently. She wanted to keep it safe, so she grabbed the book she’d been reading from the end table next to the couch, tucking the note safely inside and pushing the book down into the duffel bag.

She looked around one more time. She was ready. Ready to leave her life behind, ready to go after love, ready to find Liz. She grabbed her jacket from the hook and her keys from the table in the entryway, and slipped out the door.

Samar was on her way to London.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains smut.

London was a huge city, filled with millions of people. But as soon as Samar stepped out of the cab from the London Heathrow airport, she felt closer to Liz, more hopeful than she’d been since Liz had disappeared. She was standing in the same city as the woman she loved. Liz was _here_ somewhere. She could be anywhere within London’s many twisting streets, but at least Samar knew she was here. And that was better than being stuck in DC, stuck at work, knowing Liz could be absolutely anywhere in the world.

Samar slung the duffel bag over her shoulder. It was nearing nine a.m. London time, and the morning was chilly and wet, a mist of fog hovering above the city. She hadn’t been able to sleep a wink on the flight, so she had spent the hours combing through her mind. She had asked the flight attendant to borrow a pen, scribbling intricate webs of seemingly relevant words down on airline napkins. She had started with her knowledge of Liz, but quickly decided that Reddington was an easier access point since his empire was global; he no doubt had connections in, and a familiarity with, London. She focused in on interactions she’d had with Reddington, things he may have mentioned in passing, information she had gained on him during her Mossad investigation.

One thing she’d kept coming back to was his insatiable sweet tooth. Every time her mind landed on Reddington and dessert, something tickled at the back corners of her memory. Liz had mentioned his obsession with her trying the baklava when they were in Uzbekistan. And Samar remembered him dropping by that pastry shop in Warsaw, where the baker doubled as an arms dealer. There was the time Reddington brought an ice cream cone into the Post Office, making Ressler’s eyes roll dangerously far back in his head. And she remembered sitting next to him in the backseat of an SUV as he reminded Dembe that they needed to stop at the store that evening for his favorite chocolate.

And finally, approximately five hours after the plane took off from Washington, DC, the tickle in the back of her mind had managed to form the memory she’d been unknowingly searching for. A random conversation she’d overheard between Reddington and Aram one day at the Post Office as they bonded over their love of sweets. Aram told Reddington about his favorite cupcake shop in DC, and Reddington of course responded by telling Aram all about _his_ favorite dessert shop. He had gone on and on about the scones, the eclairs, the croissants, but _especially_ the raspberry tarts, at a little hole-in-the-wall bakery in the Fitzrovia neighborhood of London.

When the memory came to her, Samar was flooded with relief. She had closed her eyes and thanked Allah or whoever was listening for her incredible memory. But despite her capacity for remembering miniscule, insignificant details, she couldn’t for the life of her remember the name of the bakery. She had wracked her brain for the remainder of the flight, but it seemed that she had dragged from the depths of her memory all she was going to get.

She had left her phone and laptop in the States to keep from being an easy trace, which meant that she needed to find some kind of device with internet access to borrow for a few minutes. She’d had the cab drop her off at the Apple store closest to Fitzrovia, which happened to be nearby on Regent Street. Customers were always doing random searches while testing Apple products in the stores, so there would be nothing to make her stand out, to make her memorable if someone ended up in London looking for her. Her searches would be quickly buried by later customers, and they would be on one device out of the hundreds in the store.

Now she was here, ready to put her plan into action. The street was busy, but the store didn’t open for another ten minutes. Though her mind was wired, her body was slightly exhausted from lack of sleep (it was, after all, only four a.m. Washington time), so she wandered down the street until she found a Starbucks. She had enough cash to get by for a while – she’d gone to an ATM before she left Washington and exchanged it for local currency when she’d landed in London.

Samar ordered a grande cinnamon latte, and tucked herself into a corner table. She closed her eyes, taking a slow sip of the warm liquid, allowing it to warm her tired, chilled body. She gave herself seven minutes to mentally prepare herself for the day or days ahead, then headed back out into the fog.

She reached the Apple store a few minutes after it opened, but thankfully wasn’t the only customer in the store. She wandered around, pretending to be interested in the products, before settling in to “test” the newest iPhone, one of many on display. She opened the maps app and zoomed in on her current location.

She typed ‘bakery’ into the search bar. Fitzrovia was a small neighborhood, but there were still plenty of results to look through. She tapped the dots one by one, until a name stood out to her: Bonnie’s Bakeshop. She pulled up more information. The image certainly looked like a hole-in-the-wall, it was in the right neighborhood, and the name was frantically ringing bells in her head. Her heart started beating faster. She trusted her memory – she knew it was the right bakery. Now she just had to get there and wait and hope Reddington showed up for one of those raspberry tarts he apparently loved so much.

It didn’t look like it was very far away, but she tapped for directions from her current location and studied the route for a few minutes. She had an excellent sense of direction, but she wanted to make sure she had the location firmly in mind. She noted the cross streets, made sure she knew which directions to turn and where, then quickly cleared her search and closed out of the maps app entirely, swiping it up with her thumb so the next person to use the phone would see a fresh slate. She wandered around the store some more so as not to arouse suspicion, stopping by the rack of phone cases and admiring a few before meandering back out of the store as if she simply hadn’t seen anything she wanted to buy.

She was so anxious to get to the bakery that her heart was pounding in her chest – she could practically feel it in her ears. She took deep breaths as she walked, reminding herself over and over that this wasn’t a sure thing. This was a long shot.

But at least it was a shot.

With her long stride, Samar made it to the bakery in less than ten minutes. As the dark blue awning came into view, she couldn’t help but smile. She bit her lip, walking faster. She peeked inside, then glanced at the faces around her on the street. No Reddington.

She crossed the street and sat down on the sidewalk, leaning against an old brick building. She had the perfect view of the bakery’s comings and goings from here. She sat for an hour, anxiously looking around her and watching the bakery with an eagle’s eye, before she got bored. Suddenly she was glad she’d brought her book with her to London. She pulled it out of her duffel bag, making sure Liz’s note was carefully tucked inside with no chance of it falling out or blowing away, then began to read. She was distracted from the words in front of her, looking up nearly every thirty seconds, but at least it gave her something to do to pass the time while she waited.

By noon, she absolutely couldn’t stand the hunger pangs biting at her stomach, so she hesitantly went inside the bakery, ridiculously afraid that Reddington would somehow find out she were here and stay away. She bought a raspberry tart to see what all the fuss was about, along with two miniature scones and a cup of coffee to keep her awake and alert for the rest of the day.

The bakery was small, with only two tables, one by each window on either side of the door. She sat down facing the entrance, keeping her eyes peeled as she enjoyed her pastries. Reddington was right – this place was incredible. Knowing his sweet tooth – and Samar knew that she did by now – there was absolutely no way he would be able to stay away from this raspberry tart if he were in London.

She stayed inside Bonnie’s for as long as possible to avoid the chill outside, but eventually returned to her post across the street. The bakery closed at four p.m. and Samar could feel herself deflating. _It’s only been a day_ , she chided herself, before crossing the street to check the next day’s hours. Eight a.m. to four p.m. She’d be back bright and early.

 

********

 

After a huge meal (as delicious as those pastries were, they weren’t a meal, and she hadn’t eaten since a small lunch back in the States), a night spent tossing and turning in a lumpy hostel bed (she was trying to save money since she only had so much cash before she would run out), and breakfast at a café nearby, Samar found herself outside Bonnie’s Bakeshop again at 7:30 in the morning.

She sat down in the same spot as the day before, pulling her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and resting her chin on her knees with a sigh. She closed her eyes for a moment before reaching into her duffel bag for the book to pass the time, at least until the bakery opened. She glanced up every now and then, but assumed there was no need to be hyper-vigilant until eight o’clock.

Twenty-five minutes later, as she sat looking down at the book in her lap, a familiar voice snapped her back to reality.

“Agent Navabi, I see you’ve found me once again.”

Shock and disbelief shot through her as her eyes instantly flew up to find Reddington standing over her, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. She stared at him, having trouble forming words.

“Are you here on official FBI business? Hunting us down? Planning to arrest us?” His tone was playful, accompanied by a slight smirk.

She glanced around at his usage of the word “us.” Was Liz here? Was she nearby?

Samar looked back up at him, scurrying to her feet, making sure to carefully tuck the book with its lobster note safely inside her bag before frantically shaking her head. “No, not official business. I’m here on my own.”

Reddington nodded, his grin widening, eyes twinkling. “I assumed as much.” He turned toward the bakery, gesturing for her to follow. “Let me treat you to the most splendid raspberry tart you’ll ever eat. I’m quite impressed that you remembered me mentioning this bakery to Agent Mojtabai.”

She was frozen in place for a second, trying to get past the initial surprise that her plan had worked, that Reddington had actually shown up – and on her second day in London, no less. But she quickly regained her senses and cleared her throat, following him across the street. “I tried one of the tarts yesterday. I understand why you raved about them.”

Reddington pushed open the bakery door, the bells chiming as they entered. “Well then, try anything you’d like, my dear.”

She ordered a raspberry tart anyway since the one she’d had the day before had been so delicious. The clerk behind the counter handed it to her in a brown paper bag as Reddington paid for their pastries.

Samar was barely able to hold back the question on the tip of her tongue. But luckily, as soon as they stepped foot on the sidewalk outside, he got right to the point. “You’re here for Lizzie. To see her, not to take her into FBI custody.” A statement, not a question.

She nodded nervously. “Ressler and the FBI don’t know that I’m here, Reddington, I swear. I have no plans to go back.”

He tilted his head and smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s missed you a great deal.”

Samar could feel tears burning at the edges of her eyes, but she blinked them back, returning his smile.

“No phones? Have you been careful?” he asked, needing to make sure even though he trusted her intelligence.

“I have nothing but my wallet and passport. And I’ve only been using cash,” she assured him quickly.

“I trust you, Samar. Come with me. Lizzie is nearby.”

She couldn’t believe this was happening. _Lizzie was nearby_. Liz would be in her arms soon.

Samar followed him, twisting down various streets as they walked north, finally turning onto a more residential street filled with old, but well-kept, rowhouses. Reddington turned into a house about halfway down the block, latching the gate behind them, and she felt nearly numb with anticipation.

He unlocked the door and she crossed the threshold, freezing in place, knowing Liz was here. He walked further down the hall toward what seemed to be a kitchen. “Lizzie, you’ll never guess who I ran into at the bakery.”

And then Samar heard Liz’s voice for the first time in months. “Who?” She sounded confused, slightly uneasy.

Suddenly Samar’s feet came unfrozen from their place just inside the front door and she walked down the hallway stretching out in front of her. And then Liz was _there_ , right in front of her, sipping at a mug of morning coffee, dressed in her customary sleeping attire, a sweatshirt over her tank top to keep out the chill, her feet covered in fuzzy slippers. Her hair was a little longer, dyed a shade of dirty blonde, falling in waves over her shoulders. Liz was _blonde_ , but Samar barely noticed. Her hair could have been purple and she wouldn’t have cared. All she could see was her beautiful Liz, standing a mere fifteen feet away.

Liz glanced over, noticing movement at the doorway behind Red. She did a double take, her eyes widening in shock, and she swallowed the lump of emotion forming in her throat. Her mind was racing, trying to catch up with reality.

Samar could see Liz’s eyes shining with tears already, and she could feel her own beginning to weigh down her lashes. She dropped her duffel bag to the floor and managed to quirk her lips up into a wobbly smile. When she opened her mouth, only a raw whisper escaped. “Hey.”

Without warning, Liz dropped her mug of coffee into the sink, letting it clatter against the metal, lunging around the counter and dashing towards Samar. She threw herself onto her tiptoes, flinging her arms around Samar’s neck. Samar staggered back with the force of the impact, winding her arms tightly around Liz’s waist and burying her face in Liz’s hair, finally allowing her tears to fall freely.

“You’re here. I can’t believe you’re here,” Liz murmured in Samar’s ear, her voice shaking with emotion. She released her hold from around Samar’s neck and stepped down from her tiptoes, running her hands across Samar’s shoulders and down her sides to her hips before leaning in to kiss her.

When they broke apart at the sound of Red clearing his throat, Liz blushed but smiled, brushing her thumbs across Samar’s cheekbones to wipe the tears away. Samar glanced in Reddington’s direction, but he was making his way out of the room to give them privacy. Her gaze returned to Liz and she leaned forward, closing her eyes for a moment as she rested her forehead against Liz’s. “Missing you, Elizabeth-” Samar paused, her breath catching in her throat. “Missing you has been unbearable.” She opened her eyes, staring into Liz’s shimmering blue ones. The ones she’d longed to see for months – months spent wishing this whole situation was just a bad dream and that she would wake up and find those bright blue eyes next to her in bed.

“I’ve missed you _so much_ , Samar. Every single day,” Liz whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. “How are you here? How did you find Red?”

“Your Netflix clues. I was out the door and on a flight to London within an hour. And I remembered Reddington mentioning his favorite bakery here, so I found it and I waited for him to show up. He has an absurdly predictable sweet tooth.”

Liz shook her head in disbelief, smiling. “I didn’t expect you to drop everything and come looking for me in this huge city. I just wanted you to know where I was, and that I was safe.”

“London city limits, I could work with. Much easier than the entire globe,” Samar smirked, but then her expression became serious again. She cupped Liz’s cheeks in her hands. “Listen to me, Liz. Those first few days, I was lost. Numb. And then you called me, and I _knew_. I knew what to do. I have spent every day of the last three months trying to get to you.”

Liz’s brow creased as she brushed her thumb back and forth against Samar’s side underneath her jacket.

Samar took a deep, shaking breath before continuing. “‘ _I would’ve left with you in a heartbeat._ ’ Do you remember saying that to me? On our first date?” She smiled softly, stroking Liz’s cheek with her thumb.

Liz nodded, smiling through her tears. “Of course I remember,” she whispered.

“That’s why I’m here, Liz. I’m not going back to the task force. I’m not going back to Washington. I’m not going back to my life. _You_ are my life. Leila didn’t leave with me all those years ago because she was afraid of change, afraid of the consequences. I’m not afraid, Liz. I don’t care about any of those things. I care about you and only you. I’m leaving _with_ you, Liz, _wherever you go_. It’s you and me, no matter what. You and me, okay?” Samar’s voice was thick with unshed tears, her conviction evident in every word.

Liz bit her bottom lip, at a loss for words, tears sliding silently down her cheeks.

After a few too many moments of silence, Samar spoke again, her voice unusually quiet, shaking with nerves. “Please say something.”

Liz knew that Samar was uncomfortable with this kind of vulnerability, that she was terrified of having her heart broken again, especially after months of being apart and not knowing when or if they would see each other again. Liz quickly found Samar’s lips with her own, trying to communicate with her kiss what she couldn’t put into words.

She buried her face in Samar’s neck, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist, pulling her as close as she possibly could. “I don’t know what to say, Samar. Other than I love you. I love you so much. It’s actually unbelievable how much I love you.” She pulled back, looking up into Samar’s wet eyes, noticing her blotchy cheeks. “I didn’t think I could ever truly trust someone…love someone…ever again. But you healed me. My heart was in shreds and you nursed it back to health.” She smiled brightly. “Thank you for leaving with me,” she whispered.

Samar leaned down, brushing her lips slowly, softly across every inch of Liz’s face, finally reaching her lips. “I love you, Elizabeth,” she whispered against her. “More than anything. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. You healed me too.” She pulled back so she could take in every pore on Liz’s beautiful face, running her fingers through her blonde waves. “You’re my lobster,” Samar murmured with a grin.

Liz laughed happily through her tears, placing her lips against the crook of Samar’s neck, letting them linger there.

“I couldn’t watch _Friends_ without you, you know,” Samar breathed into Liz’s hair.

“I noticed. When I logged on to leave you those clues. It kinda broke my heart,” Liz replied, mumbling against Samar’s skin.

“That was ingenious, by the way. Only you would leave clues via our favorite television show,” Samar chuckled, her soft exhale tickling Liz’s ear.

Samar disentangled herself from the embrace and knelt down, unzipping the duffel bag lying forgotten near her feet. She found the book and slipped the note from between its pages, then stood, holding the piece of paper up so Liz could see it. “I couldn’t leave it behind.” Samar smiled sheepishly.

Liz reached out for Samar’s free hand, twining their fingers together. “I adore you, my sweet, strong little lobster.” Liz’s smile lit up her face as she spoke, making her dimples stand out.

That particular smile, the one that made Liz glow, never failed to make Samar go weak in the knees. She put the note back inside the book, and turned her full attention to Liz, pulling her flush against her body. She trailed her hands down Liz’s back, moving them underneath her shirt until they were splayed across Liz’s warm skin. She let one hand drift down until her fingers were partially tucked beneath the waistband of Liz’s sleep pants. “So, blonde, huh?” Samar smirked. “I’ve always been more attracted to women with dark hair, but….” She trailed off, kissing just below Liz’s ear and nipping at it lightly. “Mmmmm, you are _definitely_ pulling it off,” she whispered, her breath hot on Liz’s ear.

“Am I?” Liz breathed out teasingly.

“Without a doubt,” Samar murmured, before trailing her lips and tongue from Liz’s ear along her jawline. Liz tilted her chin up to give Samar more access as she kissed her way down her neck to her collarbone.

As Samar let her mouth wander, she slipped her hand lower beneath the waistband of Liz’s pants and moved her other hand up Liz’s back, sliding it beneath her bra strap, reaching for the clasp. She paused nervously. “Do you want to?” she mumbled against Liz’s skin.

Liz’s heart swelled. Samar was still so careful with her, never wanting to break the trust that had been built between them. “Yes,” she whispered, pressing her lips to the curls falling against Samar’s forehead. “Yes, Samar.”

Liz grabbed Samar’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs in the front hallway. She ducked her head around the corner quickly, noting that the door to Red’s study was closed, which meant he was inside busying himself with something or other to give her time alone with Samar. She turned back, grinning. “Come on, we’ve got upstairs to ourselves.” She hurried up the stairs, pulling Samar along behind her.

At the top, Liz dragged Samar down the hallway to the back of the house, flinging open the last door on the left. She pulled Samar inside and tossed the door shut behind them, turning back to Samar once they were safely tucked in her bedroom. “God, I’ve missed you,” Liz murmured, her chest aching with anticipation. She stepped closer, sliding her hands underneath Samar’s shirt and quickly pulling it over her head. Samar’s skin was like a magnet, drawing Liz in. Her lips pressed hungrily to Samar’s collarbone, moving down between her breasts, as her fingers deftly released the clasp at Samar’s back. She backed away just enough to pull Samar’s bra off and down her arms, dropping it on the floor.

Before Samar had time to think, Liz’s burning lips were back on her skin, leaving fiery trails in their wake. Samar’s lips parted and her head fell back as Liz’s mouth closed over her breast, her tongue and teeth teasing the nipple. Liz refocused her attention to Samar’s other breast, back and forth, until both nipples were pebbles beneath her tongue. She moved back up to kiss Samar’s lips, biting down softly and running her tongue along the bottom lip. She pushed Samar backward gently until the backs of her legs hit the bed.

Samar sat down, pushing up at the bottom of Liz’s sweatshirt. Liz took the hint and pulled it off along with her tank top, throwing them behind her, her eyes focused on Samar’s. She dove forward, capturing Samar’s lips with her own and pushing her down onto the bed. Liz’s lips trailed down her neck again and Samar scooted backwards onto the bed until her curls were spread underneath her on a white pillowcase.

Samar reached around Liz’s back, fumbling with her bra clasp until it came loose. Liz straddled Samar’s stomach, freeing her arms of her bra and tossing it away. Samar ran her hands up Liz’s sides, pulling her down until they were chest to chest.

Liz hovered just above Samar’s lips, gazing into her eyes. “I love you,” Liz whispered, before kissing Samar softly, gently, then more deeply. They explored slowly, relearning how the other liked to be kissed, to be touched.

After a few minutes, Liz began moving down Samar’s body, leaving open-mouthed kisses in a line between her breasts. Her fingers skimmed across the rough skin marking the bullet wound on Samar’s abdomen and she paused her descent.

Liz looked up into Samar’s eyes for a moment and then pressed her lips reverently to the ragged scar. She brushed her thumb against Samar’s side before kissing the scar once more. Samar could feel Liz’s warm breath against the damaged skin. A wave of heat rushed through her body at the loving gesture.

Liz continued kissing down Samar’s stomach until she reached the top of her jeans. She quickly undid the button, unzipped them, and began to tug them down over Samar’s hips. Samar shimmied out of them as Liz pulled the jeans to her feet. Samar kicked the final leg free, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the look of desire burning in Liz’s eyes.

Liz hitched her thumbs under the elastic of Samar’s underwear, slowly, tenderly pulling them down until Samar was fully bared in front of her. Suddenly Liz needed to feel all of her, to be pressed skin to skin against the woman she loved. She sat back, stripping herself of her own pants and underwear, no longer caring about moving slowly and drawing it out.

She scurried back up Samar’s body, wrapping her arms around her, burying her face in Samar’s shoulder, overwhelmed. “I just need to feel you for a minute. I need to hold you,” Liz murmured softly. Samar kissed the spot above Liz’s ear and spread her hands across Liz’s upper back, running her fingers up and down her spine. “I just can’t believe you’re here,” Liz whispered.

Samar could feel hot tears against the skin of her shoulder. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Elizabeth,” she whispered, tightening her arms around Liz’s waist.

“I was so scared I’d never see you again,” Liz cried, turning her face into Samar’s neck, her body trembling.

“I was too. But I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t lose you,” Samar replied, rolling onto her side. Liz removed her face from Samar’s neck, meeting her gaze, and Samar placed a soft kiss on the tip of Liz’s nose, giving her a small, reassuring smile. “I’m here,” Samar repeated, a reminder neither of them could get enough of hearing.

Liz pulled Samar’s face to hers, kissing her deeply, reigniting the flame that her tears had momentarily dampened. Her fingers trailed lightly down Samar’s side to her hip, and her lips moved to Samar’s neck, nipping and sucking at her pulse point.

Liz began to disentangle herself, moving down Samar’s chest, but Samar placed her hand on Liz’s cheek to get her attention, shaking her head, her breathing already ragged. “I’d rather be close to you,” she breathed out.

Liz understood and nodded, moving back up until her forehead was against Samar’s. “Show me what you want,” she whispered.

Samar smiled, kissing Liz softly as she nudged her knee in-between Liz’s legs and trailed her hand lightly down Liz’s stomach, stopping just above the familiar trimmed patch of dark curls. Liz instinctively brought her leg up higher to hook around Samar’s hip. As Samar brushed her finger lightly across her folds, Liz inhaled sharply, tightening her grip on Samar’s waist.

Samar’s fingers went to work, slipping easily into Liz. She was gentle. She was always gentle, so careful at first, and it warmed Liz’s heart. Samar brushed her thumb over Liz’s clit, light as a feather, but the touch was enough to make Liz cry out, biting her lip.

Liz slowly moved her hand from Samar’s waist to her core. She dipped one finger in, then two, until she was stroking Samar’s inner walls delicately, gently circling Samar’s clit between strokes.

Samar threw her head back with a gasp. She continued her efforts on Liz, occasionally brushing her clit in just the way Liz liked best. She leaned in to press her lips to Liz’s, their tongues dancing together slowly, softly. As Samar moved her thumb over Liz’s clit once more, Liz whimpered into her mouth, sending a wave of fire through Samar’s body.

Liz took advantage of Samar’s fresh arousal by slipping in a third finger, pushing even deeper. Samar cried out in Farsi, which Liz knew from experience meant she was _really_ enjoying herself.

Their hips managed to establish a rhythm on each other’s fingers, and within a few minutes, they were both breathing hard, their bodies quivering against each other. Liz’s cries of pleasure became louder and she buried her face in Samar’s shoulder to muffle the sound.

With one final brush over her clit, Liz felt herself teetering on the edge. She fought to stay with it enough so that she could increase her efforts on Samar, until Liz could sense Samar’s familiar hitching breaths and feel her walls tensing around her fingers. “You with me?” Liz managed to ask between breathless gasps.

“Yes,” Samar panted, leaning her forehead against Liz’s.

And within seconds, they came apart in each other’s arms, falling over the edge together, staring into each other’s eyes as they shuddered through their orgasms, gasping, whimpering

As they relaxed, melting into each other, Liz pulled her fingers from Samar’s core, wiping the sticky remnants onto her sheets – it was still morning, she could put fresh sheets on the bed later. She wrapped her arm around Samar, her hand resting lightly on Samar’s lower back. She stroked her thumb back and forth softly, placing a soft kiss at the corner of Samar’s mouth. She let her leg slide down from its place on Samar’s hip as she felt Samar’s fingers slide out of her.

As Liz regained her breath, she moved her hand up to stroke Samar’s hair away from her sweaty forehead, tucking it behind her ear. “You’re so beautiful,” Liz murmured.

“I could say the same about you,” Samar murmured in reply, running her fingers up and down Liz’s side. Liz blushed before pressing her lips to Samar’s in a soft kiss. “I love you,” Samar whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her forehead to Liz’s, their noses nuzzling together.

Samar couldn’t get enough of saying those words out loud after months of numbness and loneliness. Months of being afraid that she’d never see Liz again, that she’d lost her forever. “I love you so much,” Samar repeated softly.


	3. Chapter 3

After a shower, where they took the time to get reacquainted with each other’s bodies more thoroughly, Liz threw on jeans and a sweater, before rushing downstairs to retrieve Samar’s duffel bag. She set it on the dresser, gave Samar a kiss, and went back to the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair.

Samar pulled a clean pair of underwear out of her bag, slipping them on along with a pair of black jeans, before finding the bra, shirt, and leather jacket she had been wearing earlier from where they’d landed on the floor.

After she was fully dressed, she joined Liz in the bathroom, brushing her teeth while Liz blew her hair dry. Liz passed Samar the blow-dryer when she was done, then gently gripped her shoulders and smoothed Samar’s wet hair to the side to place her lips against the nape of Samar’s neck. “What do you wanna do today?” Liz mumbled against her skin.

Samar reached up, placing her hand over Liz’s on her shoulder. “Anything as long as I’m with you.”

Liz smiled, exhaling against Samar’s wet hair. “Okay. Hurry up, and we can go explore the city,” Liz replied, wrapping her arms around Samar’s waist and giving her a squeeze before heading out of the bathroom.

Once they had both finished getting ready, Samar grabbed her wallet and they walked downstairs together, hand in hand.

Liz reached for her purse hanging from a hook in the front hall, then held out her hand, palm up. “Here, I can carry your wallet.”

Samar smiled, handing it to Liz. Liz dropped the wallet inside, and slung the purse over her shoulder, then looked back to Samar.

“I should let Red know we’re going out.” Liz leaned in to kiss her softly. “And then I’m all yours,” she whispered against Samar’s lips.

“Sounds good,” Samar whispered back, letting Liz take her hand and pull her toward Red’s study, where the door was still closed.

Liz knocked quietly. “Red?”

They heard movement on the other side and Red’s answering voice. “Come in, Lizzie.” She pushed open the door and stepped inside, Samar just behind her. “Ah, ladies. Going out for the afternoon?” he asked with a friendly smile.

Liz nodded. “Just wandering around, maybe some food, maybe some sightseeing,” she replied.

“Before you leave, I’d like to briefly discuss logistics with you.” Red glanced at Samar. “Both of you.”

“Sure,” Liz replied, moving to sit down on the couch across from Red’s armchair. Samar followed, sitting next to her.

“Today is Sunday. I can only assume that by tomorrow, when Samar fails to show up for work, someone will do some digging and find that she has spontaneously flown to London.” Red looked at Samar, his tone still pleasant. “This obviously cannot be helped, and you have been very careful about leaving no trace of yourself upon arrival here.”

Samar nodded. “I did everything I could, Reddington.”

“I am well aware, and I appreciate your efforts, my dear,” he replied, before looking back to Liz. “Now, Lizzie. I know you’ve quite enjoyed your time here in London, and that this house has become very comfortable for you. But unfortunately it’s time for us to go elsewhere. It’s extremely likely that someone will make assumptions about Samar’s abrupt departure and come looking for her and for us.”

Liz quickly nodded in agreement. “I love it here, but I understand. I’ll go anywhere as long as Samar can come with us.”

Red laughed, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe Liz’s words. “Of course she can come with us, Lizzie. She’s given up everything to be with you. Samar is on our team now.”

Samar squeezed Liz’s hand. “I was always on your team,” she stated firmly, gazing at Liz’s profile until Liz turned her head to meet her eyes. She smiled widely, dimples showing, as her eyes twinkled. Liz’s smile made Samar almost dizzy, a wave of affection rushing over her.

“So, Lizzie, Samar.” They returned their attention to Red. “Where would you like to go?”

“What are our options?” Liz asked.

“Anywhere,” Red replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Liz looked at Samar, her eyes widening, a huge, enthusiastic smile spreading across her face. Samar chuckled, leaning in to kiss one of Liz’s dimples. She was internationally well-traveled, but she knew Liz hadn’t traveled all that much outside of work. This was all still new and exciting for her, despite her status as a fugitive.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Samar assured her. “Where have you always wanted to go?”

Liz looked thoughtful for a moment, scanning the list in her mind. Somehow her eyes managed to light up even more as she glanced between Samar and Red, grinning. “Amsterdam. I’ve never been there and always wanted to go.”

Red nodded. “Amsterdam it is, then. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Liz looked so happy it brought the sting of joyful tears to Samar’s eyes. Samar dragged her gaze away from Liz to look at Red. “When would you like to leave London?” she asked.

“Nine a.m. tomorrow. We’ll make one last trip to Bonnie’s before we go.” Red shut his eyes and shook his head, frowning slightly. “I’m going to miss those raspberry tarts.” Liz and Samar exchanged an amused look, but turned their attention back to Red as his thoughts got back on track. “If we leave at nine o’clock, we’ll be in Amsterdam before anyone in Washington realizes Samar is gone.”

He stood, smiling down at them. “Now, ladies, go enjoy this magnificent city. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thank you for accommodating me in your plans, Reddington. I appreciate it more than you know,” Samar told him as she stood up, pulling Liz up with her.

“Of course. I adore anyone who adores Lizzie,” Red replied. Samar smiled.

“See you later, Red. And don’t think you can skip your physical therapy just because I’m not here this afternoon. I’ll know,” Liz smirked, dragging Samar towards the study door.

“I wouldn’t think of it, Lizzie,” he replied in mock seriousness before sitting back down, newspaper in hand.

Liz snorted, rolling her eyes. “Come on, I wanna take you to my favorite spot,” she told Samar excitedly. “And then we can be tourists for a day.”

Red watched them leave over the top of his newspaper, a smile on his face.

 

********

 

Samar let Liz lead the way. She’d go anywhere as long as her hand was in Liz’s. They strolled leisurely through Regent’s Park, their joined hands swinging between them. “I love it here,” Liz murmured, glancing over at Samar with a smile on her face.

“I’m sorry that you have to leave,” Samar replied sadly.

“Don’t be. It was great while it lasted, but being with you will be infinitely better no matter where we are.” Liz squeezed Samar’s hand. Samar met her gaze and smiled. Liz shook her head in disbelief. “It still doesn’t feel real that you’re here. I can’t believe I get to show you this place.” She looked down at the ground, her voice quieting. “It kind of became the spot I would escape to when I was overwhelmed with missing you. A little safe haven, where I could forget about reality for awhile and just… miss you.” She looked back up at Samar, a sheepish smile on her face.

Samar swallowed down the lump of emotion forming in the back of her throat. “I never really found a way to escape reality. You were everywhere, Liz. The Post Office, my apartment, my couch, my fridge, all over the city…” She trailed off, her eyes drifting away from Liz back to the footpath in front of her. The memory of her pain, her loneliness, her abandonment – it hurt to think about, and she didn’t want to associate that pain with the face of the beautiful woman holding her hand. “I felt like I was left behind in this life that just wasn’t right anymore. It wasn’t right without you, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t find you, and it was breaking me.” She swallowed, before hesitantly looking at Liz.

“Samar, I _never_ wanted to leave you behind. It broke my heart to leave you.” Her chin quivered and she bit her lip as tears slipped from her eyes. “I cried for days, I felt completely empty. I was practically a zombie, Red was terrified to leave me alone,” she whispered.

Samar stopped walking, pulling Liz into her arms, stroking her hair. “Oh, Liz, no. I know you didn’t want to leave me. Trust me, I know. And I understand. You didn’t have a choice. It’s okay,” she murmured comfortingly in her ear. Liz’s tears slowed but Samar tightened her embrace around Liz’s waist. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel guilty. I never meant to blame you. Not at all.” She pulled back enough to lean her forehead against Liz’s and look into her eyes. “I just need you to know that the last three months were some of the most difficult of my life. And I know that’s selfish of me, because I’m sure however difficult it was for me, it was ten times worse for you, with your entire life in upheaval.” Liz swallowed and nodded against her.

Samar smiled sadly before continuing. “I was lost without you, and I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true. Everything felt wrong.” She pulled back further, clutching Liz’s waist, looking deeply into her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean that I blame you. Not _once_ did a negative thought about you cross my mind. All I thought about was getting you back. That was _it_.”

Liz nodded again. “I believe you. I promise,” she murmured before pressing her lips to Samar’s firmly. She pulled away, finding Samar’s hand again, tugging her in the direction they’d been heading. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

They followed twisting paths through the trees until, within five minutes, they came upon a stream, lined with weeping willows, leafy vines blowing in the breeze, skimming gently across the water. Liz led Samar toward a bend in the stream, where a secluded footbridge sat, partially hidden by the drooping leaves of a willow tree.

The small bridge creaked beneath their footsteps, the only sound other than the flowing water and the wind blowing through the trees. “Are we even in London anymore?” Samar asked with a chuckle as they reached the center of the bridge.

Liz grinned, moving to sit down, dangling her legs over the edge and leaning her crossed arms on top of one of the slats in the wooden railing. She rested her chin on her arms.

Samar sat down next to her, their hips and thighs pressed against each other. Samar leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Liz, resting her chin on Liz’s shoulder. “This is beautiful,” she sighed near Liz’s ear, staring out over the stream.

“It’s so much more beautiful now that you’re here,” Liz murmured, turning her head to nuzzle her nose against Samar’s, barely brushing their lips together. She let herself linger there, closing her eyes and breathing in Samar’s presence, moving one hand behind her to lean on as she placed her other hand gently on Samar’s thigh.

“Asheghetam delbar-am,” Samar whispered against Liz’s lips.

Liz didn’t know what the words meant, but she could sense the importance, the conviction behind them. She felt tears burning behind her eyelids. “I almost don’t want to ask because it’s so beautiful the way it is, but what’s the translation?” she murmured.

Samar wanted Liz to understand the words she’d spoken, words with such beautiful meaning in her native tongue. She smiled, bringing one hand up to stroke through Liz’s hair as she spoke. “Asheghetam is ‘I love you’ in Farsi, but it literally translates to ‘I am in love with you.’ It’s the most significant way to say ‘I love you’ in my language.” Samar pressed her lips to Liz’s for a moment before continuing. “Delbar-am is a term of endearment for true love. Soulmate. Its translation is ‘the one who has stolen my heart.’” She could hear Liz’s breath catch but she pressed on. “Which you have, Elizabeth. You have stolen my heart and I will gladly let you keep it.”

Liz dropped her forehead to Samar’s shoulder, tears leaking from her eyes no matter how hard she squeezed them shut. She trailed her hand from Samar’s thigh around to her hip as she cried quietly.

Samar reached up, running her fingers through Liz’s hair softly, pressing her lips against her temple. After a moment, Liz spoke through her tears, still facedown against Samar’s shoulder. “I am so in love with you, Samar. I just- I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I _don’t_ deserve you.”

Samar frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about? You deserve everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Liz shook her head against Samar’s shoulder then hesitantly lifted it up to look her in the eyes. “No, I don’t. I’m a murderer, Samar. I’m a cold-blooded _killer_.”

“You’re not, Liz. That’s not who you are,” Samar protested.

But a fresh flood of tears spilled from Liz’s eyes and she shook her head frantically. “It is. It’s all I’ve _ever_ been. My entire life has been a lie.”

“Liz-”

“I killed my father when I was four years old, Samar.” Her voice broke. “I shot and killed my own father,” she whispered, her chest aching. Samar reached out for Liz’s hand, clutching it tightly to show her that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Liz continued speaking, knowing that Samar would have no clue how to respond to an admission like that without more information. “Reddington had my memory of that night blocked, but when I killed Connolly, when I pulled the trigger… I remembered everything. It was the night of the fire, the night I got my scar. My mother and father were arguing, fighting. He was hurting her, they were struggling, he dropped his gun. And I picked it up and I… I shot him. I’m sure I didn’t know what I was doing, I just wanted him to stop hurting her. But I killed my father. I’ve been a murderer since I was four years old.” Liz broke down, tearing her hand from Samar’s to cover her mouth, trying futilely to stifle her sobs.

The sounds escaping Liz were like knives to Samar’s chest. She pulled her legs up from where they had been dangling over the edge of the bridge and turned to face Liz, hurriedly wrapping her in her arms. “You were just a little girl, you didn’t know what the gun would do. You’re not a murderer.” Samar squeezed her arms around her even more tightly, hooking her chin over Liz’s shoulder as Liz clung to her beneath her jacket. “Do you want to know what you are, Liz? You are kind and loving. You are strong and brave and determined. You are _fiercely_ loyal. You are incredibly intelligent, skilled, understanding…” Samar’s voice shook with unshed tears as she held her. “You are _brilliant_. You are _human_. You have _such_ a beautiful heart. You are my lobster, my love, my sweet Elizabeth.” Samar’s voice broke and tears slipped down her cheeks into Liz’s hair as she squeezed her eyes shut. She sniffed and took a shaky breath. “You are _not_ a murderer, do you hear me?” she reiterated firmly.

Liz nodded against her. “I have nightmares almost every night, nightmares where I pull the trigger over and over, killing the people I love. You, Ressler, Aram, Cooper, Red, Sam, Meera, everyone,” she admitted quietly. “I’m scared that there’s a monster somewhere inside me and it’s going to devour me. I don’t want to be a monster, Samar,” she breathed, her voice trembling.

Liz was clinging to her desperately, and it made Samar’s heart clench. “You will never be a monster. The fact that you don’t want to be one proves it. There is not one monstrous cell in your entire body,” Samar assured her gently, pressing her lips against the side of Liz’s head and letting them linger there until she could feel Liz’s grip becoming looser around her waist. Samar carefully readjusted her position, keeping one arm wrapped around Liz tightly, holding her close. Liz’s head gently dropped onto her shoulder as they sat side by side once again.

Samar brushed her thumb across Liz’s side soothingly. After a moment, she spoke again. “Nothing you have done can make me think of you differently, Liz. I know who you are in here,” she said, placing her free hand above Liz’s heart.

Liz turned to her, smiling softly, pressing her lips to Samar’s shoulder.

They sat quietly in each other’s arms for a few minutes, the canopy of leaves above them dancing in the wind as they watched the stream flowing gently below them. Liz’s mind drifted to all the people she’d killed, all the deaths she’d played a part in or been responsible for in some way. Her father, all those years ago. Frederick Barnes, every kill in the line of duty since. Sam, Meera, the harbormaster. And now Connolly.

She knew she’d also saved a lot of lives. And she knew that most of the people she, herself, had killed were anything but innocent. But all the lives she’d taken were adding up – a huge weight sitting on her heart, making her question everything.

“I don’t know how Red expects to clear my name,” Liz thought aloud. “I killed Connolly because he threatened me and everyone I care about. But there was no immediate threat. No one would see it as self-defense. He was unarmed. He was the Attorney General of the United States. There’s no proof.” She paused. “Well, there’s Cooper.” Her wide, panic-filled eyes shot to Samar. “Oh god, is Cooper okay? Please tell me he’s okay,” she whispered frantically.

“Cooper is fine. He’s alive. He was cleared of all charges; the FBI knows he wasn’t complicit in the shooting. But I have no idea what the Cabal may have planned.”

“He was already a target. They made him think he was sick, dying of an inoperable tumor, so Connolly could manipulate him and keep him under the Cabal’s thumb. I was so relieved when I found out he was healthy, but…who knows what they’ll try to do to him now.” Liz swallowed heavily and Samar held her more tightly. “Aram and Ressler?” Liz asked nervously.

“They were both fine when I left,” Samar replied.

“I’m so worried. I miss them, you know? You all were my family. It was like I just… I snapped when he threatened all of you. But it’s not like killing one member of the Cabal will stop the entire organization. I don’t know if Connolly had already passed his intel on the task force along to someone else.”

“It’s been three months and they haven’t tried anything, so I think there’s a solid chance that you killed him before he told anyone what he knew.”

“I hope so.” Liz paused for a moment, thinking, looking out at the water. “I don’t regret it. Killing Connolly, I mean.” She let the biting truth of her words sink in for a few seconds before continuing. “I couldn’t let him hurt you, any of you. So I don’t regret it. And I don’t know what that says about me.”

Samar pressed her lips to Liz’s temple. “It says that you care deeply for the people in your life and you will kill to protect them. That’s all it says, Elizabeth. Even when you were a child, with your father – you were trying to protect your mother. You kill to protect. It is _always_ to protect.”

Liz nodded, her lips pressed into a crooked line, her eyes following a leaf as it drifted below them in the stream.

“If either of us is a killer, Liz, it isn't you,” Samar continued, her tone suddenly nervous.

Liz shook her head in protest. “You were just doing your job, Samar. It may not have been to protect, but it was still your job.”

“I’m not talking about the Iranian scientist.” Samar’s voice was quiet as she looked out over the water, avoiding Liz’s gaze.

Liz’s brow furrowed in confusion as she gazed at Samar’s conflicted, anxious expression. “What-”

“The Scimitar. I was the one to put a bullet in his head and dump him in the river. Reddington brought us the case because he knew the Scimitar was involved in the bombing that killed my brother. I could have done the right thing and called it in when Reddington brought him to me. But instead I killed him. Revenge for the part he played in my brother’s death. Not to mention I was angry that he hurt you and put you in danger. But none of that makes it right. It wasn’t for protection. It wasn’t for self-defense. It wasn’t for my job. It was cold-blooded revenge.” She shook her head, ashamed, unable to look Liz in the eye, scared of what she might find there.

“Samar, look at me,” Liz murmured, gently placing her hand on Samar’s cheek. Samar turned toward her, her eyes stinging with tears, filled with dread. Dread that Liz would be disgusted with her, that she wouldn’t want her anymore.

“I don’t care what you’ve done.” Liz balled her hand into a loose fist, placing it above Samar’s heart, the way Samar had done for her a moment ago. “I know who you are in here, just like you know me. Nothing can make me think less of you or make me love you less. The Scimitar? All that tells me is that you love the people in your life and are willing to kill for them, just like me. Think of revenge as… protection after the fact.” Liz gave her a reassuring half-smile, brushing her fingers down the side of Samar’s face, smoothing a flyaway curl along the way.

Samar huffed a laugh. “I love you,” she affirmed, tilting her head to the side as she wiped a stray tear from her cheek.

“I love you too, my lobster.” Liz smiled, reaching for Samar’s hand, stroking her thumb back and forth across Samar’s knuckles. “Wanna tell me about your brother? What was he like?”

Samar smiled, looking down at their interlaced fingers, as she immediately began sifting through memories of her brother. “Shahin,” she murmured, glancing up into Liz’s loving gaze. “He was my best friend growing up.”

“Was he younger or older?”

“Younger. By a few years,” Samar replied.

“So you were the protective big sister,” Liz murmured, resting her chin on Samar’s shoulder.

Samar chuckled. “Very protective.” She paused, organizing her memories. “I was never much of a girl, always wanting to play and run and climb with Shahin. We had so many adventures together. And he had this… odd fascination with birds as a child.” She smiled as she remembered. “He learned everything he could about every type of bird imaginable, and when we came across one, he would tell me all of the new things he had learned about it.” Samar could feel Liz smiling against her shoulder.

“We loved the outdoors. We used to sneak out after dark with blankets, just to sit in the yard and look at the stars. As we got older, we drifted apart. We had our own lives outside of our family. But I was still so protective of him. I loved him so much.” She shook her head, blinking back tears. “I miss him every day. Sometimes I can’t believe that he’s really gone, and I think about what it would be like if he were simply angry with me or didn’t care about me – if that were the real reason I haven’t spoken to him in years. I would prefer that to the reality of him being dead, the reality of him being blown apart in that explosion. He had such a kind heart. He didn’t deserve that kind of pain, even if it only lasted for a moment. He didn’t deserve such a senseless, violent death. Not my little brother.”

“Of course not,” Liz murmured, tightening her grip on Samar’s hand. Samar turned her face toward where Liz’s chin remained perched on her shoulder, and Liz placed a soft kiss on Samar’s jaw.

Samar swallowed, looking down, her eyes fluttering closed. “The Scimitar told me something before I killed him. He knew my brother’s name. He told me that Shahin wasn’t an innocent victim in the bombing and that I was naïve if I thought he was. He may have been lying, hoping I would spare his life if I thought he had valuable information. But I don’t think he really expected me to kill him, so maybe he was telling the truth.” She opened her eyes to look at Liz again, allowing her to see the raw, open vulnerability brought forth by thoughts of Shahin. “Maybe I didn’t know my own brother.”

Liz reached up to Samar’s hair, wrapping her fingers in her curls. “You knew him when you were growing up. When you were close. When you talked about birds and looked at the stars and he was your best friend. No one can take that away from you. Those memories are real and you get to keep them forever. That little boy you protected, _that_ was Shahin. You knew him. Don’t doubt that, Samar.”

Samar’s lips turned up into a wobbly smile. “He would’ve liked you. After Leila, after my parents cut me off, Shahin still loved me. He didn’t care who I was attracted to or who I fell in love with. I was still his sister. I was always so grateful for that.”

“I wish I could have met him,” Liz replied, still playing with Samar’s curls.

“Me too,” Samar whispered.

Liz smiled against her shoulder. “And I wish you could’ve met my dad. Sam, I mean.” A small huff of laughter escaped her, fanning against Samar’s hair. “He would’ve thought you were the absolute coolest.” Samar chuckled at that. “And I’m sure he would’ve made some kind of joke about me turning to women after Tom, but he wouldn’t have cared, not really. He would’ve been happy that I’m happy,” Liz mused, looking down at their joined hands, tracing Samar’s palm with her fingers.

“From the stories you’ve told me of Sam, I know I would have adored him,” Samar replied, bringing Liz’s hand to her lips to press a soft, lingering kiss to her fingertips.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the wind whispering through the weeping willow’s branches above them. “Will you miss it?” Liz asked unexpectedly. “The task force, DC, everything?”

Samar scanned Liz’s face for a moment, then shook her head. “No, not really. Not if I’m with you. I grew attached to our team, but being with you is far more important to me than anything I left behind.”

Liz smiled softly, nuzzling her nose into Samar’s neck. Samar suddenly shivered, the brisk air finally breaching the barrier of her leather jacket.

“It’s a little chilly. Do you want to keep moving?” Liz asked, holding Samar more tightly.

Samar looked at Liz and shook her head. “We don’t have to leave yet. You love this place. And I do too. It’s beautiful.”

“I do love it. But I think I can say goodbye to the ‘missing-my-girlfriend’ spot now that I have you back.” Liz brushed her lips against Samar’s lightly. “You hungry? I can take you out for the best pizza in London.”

Samar kissed the tip of Liz’s nose. “Pizza sounds perfect,” she whispered in reply.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains smut.

Liz and Samar had spent their last day in London wandering the city streets, stealing kisses here and there, reveling in the simple pleasure of being hand in hand after three long, lonely months apart. In the evening, they’d joined Red for dinner back at the safe house, then spent the night comfortably curled in each other’s arms.

Liz woke the next morning to warm sunshine streaming through the window onto her face and the feel of Samar’s arm draped loosely across her waist. Samar was still asleep, her even breaths puffing against the back of Liz’s neck. She smiled. Despite everything she’d been dealing with – being a fugitive wanted by her government, the fallout of remembering killing her father, not knowing if she would ever see her friends or Samar again, everything – Liz was undeniably happy in this moment, with Samar’s breath on her neck, Samar’s chest pressed to her back, Samar’s legs tangled with her own.

Liz glanced to the bedside table, noting the time on the clock. Just after six a.m. She snuggled back further into Samar, closing her eyes. They could sleep a bit more before starting their new adventure in Amsterdam. But Samar was a light sleeper; Liz immediately felt Samar’s arm tightening around her. She heard a relaxed sigh behind her, felt Samar’s soft exhale brushing the hair at the nape of her neck. She reached for Samar’s hand, lacing their fingers together loosely.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Samar murmured, her voice rough with sleep.

Liz grinned, turning to face Samar, resting her hand in the dip of Samar’s waist and resituating their legs in a new tangle. “Morning, sexy,” she replied, brushing her lips against Samar’s, light as a feather.

Samar trailed her fingers down Liz’s spine, deepening the kiss. After a moment, Liz pulled back, returning her head to the pillow, smiling softly at Samar. “Remember the first time we had sex? How nervous you were?”

Samar chuckled. “I was _not_ nervous. What are you talking about?” she asked playfully.

Liz giggled, kissing the corner of Samar’s upturned mouth. “Yes you were. It was adorable. You took charge to make me feel more comfortable because you knew _I_ was nervous and that I’d never been with a woman, but don’t think you fooled me, Samar. Profilers see all,” she smirked.

“Alright, fine. I _was_ nervous. But only because I wanted it to be perfect for you,” Samar admitted, pressing her forehead to Liz’s and closing her eyes.

“You’re always so careful with me and I fall in love with you a little more each time,” Liz murmured.

“I love you so very much, Lizzie.”

Liz huffed a surprised laugh against Samar’s lips, then pulled back an inch to look into her eyes. “You never call me Lizzie.”

“I thought I’d try something new,” Samar replied straightforwardly. “But I think Reddington has claimed that name, so I’ll probably stick to Liz,” she smirked.

“You can call me anything you want,” Liz murmured. She moved closer to Samar’s ear, nipping at the lobe before whispering, “Especially in a few minutes when I make you come.”

And suddenly she had rolled Samar onto her back, her knee between Samar’s legs, kissing her deeply, tongue sweeping softly against the roof of her mouth. When she moved her lips to Samar’s neck, Samar laughed breathlessly. “Feeling bold this morning?”

Liz responded by biting the juncture of Samar’s neck and shoulder gently.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Samar rasped out.

Liz moved back to Samar’s mouth. “You should definitely take that as a yes,” she mumbled against Samar’s lips, nipping lightly. She slid her hands up Samar’s sides, pushing her shirt up as she went.

They had both slept braless the night before, and Liz quickly trailed her lips down the valley of Samar’s breasts. She flicked her tongue over each nipple, blowing gently until the cold air on her now-damp breasts had Samar’s breath hitching in her chest.

Liz lifted herself up to hover above Samar for a moment, taking in her beauty as she lay beneath her, already flushed. “God, you’re perfect, Samar. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Samar reached up, twisting a falling strand of Liz’s hair around her finger. “I am yours. Always, delbar-am.”

Liz’s heart swelled and she smiled, immediately diving back down, taking a nipple in her mouth and trailing her hand down Samar’s stomach. She was impatient to taste her again, even though this was their third time making love in less than twenty-four hours. She felt almost insatiable, but she couldn’t help herself – she’d missed Samar so much.

She moved to the other nipple, then hurriedly kissed her way down to the waistband of Samar’s pants, clumsily pulling them down and off of Samar’s long legs. She tossed them to the side, dipping her head down to Samar’s already-wet panties. She placed a soft kiss over the dark, widening circle, then quickly pulled the underwear off, throwing them in the same direction as the pants.

Liz ran her hands reverently over Samar’s wide hips, stroking her thumbs against her sides. She pressed her lips to Samar’s inner thigh, moving closer and closer to her dark curls and aching core.

At the first gentle touch of Liz’s tongue, barely grazing her folds, Samar gasped. Liz forced herself to move slowly at first, lapping gently, but as Samar’s back began to arch, she stiffened her tongue, pushing it deeper inside, running it up to Samar’s clit, circling it lightly with the tip of her tongue. She moved away from her clit for a moment, slowly pushing one finger into Samar. She worked it in and out slowly, then, as Samar’s breathing quickened, more swiftly. She moved her lips back to Samar’s clit, teasing it with her tongue, sucking it into her mouth.

“Liz,” Samar whimpered, clutching the bedsheets in her fists.

Liz kissed her clit lovingly before pushing another finger inside, her other hand gripping Samar’s hip tightly. She curled her fingers, and Samar cried out, squeezing her eyes shut, swearing in Farsi as Liz’s tongue relentlessly worked at her clit. “Harder,” she whispered breathlessly.

Liz did as requested, quickening her pace, pumping her fingers in and out, swiping the flat of her tongue slowly across Samar’s clit, and finally reaching up Samar’s body to pinch her nipple.

Samar’s toes curled as she fell apart, shouting out her release, attempting to buck her hips while Liz held her down and continued lapping at her folds. She shut her eyes, shuddering through the aftershocks until she was lying still, breathing hard, recovering from the wave of pleasure Liz had just given her.

When Samar spoke, her words were still interspersed with heavy breaths. “Shit. You…” She trailed off, pushing loose strands of hair out of her face. “You are a goddess. You said I could call you whatever I want to call you? _That_ is what I choose from now on: Elizabeth, goddess of sex.”

Liz dropped her head to Samar’s stomach, laughing uncontrollably, her hair brushing lightly against Samar’s skin, before she crawled back up Samar’s body to be closer to her. Samar slid her hands underneath Liz’s shirt, wanting to feel her skin against her palms, as Liz collapsed on top of her, still laughing. “I did say anything, so I suppose I can’t object,” she giggled against Samar’s lips before kissing her deeply.

They basked in the pure joy of closeness, holding each other for a few minutes, then rolled out of bed to get ready for the day’s travels, the next part of their journey. Samar grinned as she tugged Liz toward the shower, eager to taste her, to repay the favor.

A few hours later, after one last visit to Bonnie’s where they filled an entire box with raspberry tarts for the trip, they were on their way to Amsterdam. Liz didn’t know how long it would take to clear her name and take down the Cabal. She didn’t know how long she would be on the run, or what her future had in store for her. She had to keep running – from the FBI, the Cabal, her friends, and her past. Sometimes she questioned whether she even knew herself at all; those moments required her to dig deep inside herself for reminders that the things she had done and the things that had happened to her didn’t define who she was.

But truthfully, none of that mattered to Liz anymore. Not as much, anyway. As long as she was with Samar – as long as they were together – she was home.


End file.
